


(you will never break the) chain

by misura



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "Come to bed with me, Jamshid."





	(you will never break the) chain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe/gifts).



Muntadhir was drunk. Muntadhir was _very_ drunk.

Jamshid assured himself that that was the only reason this was happening. It had nothing to do with Jamshid, or Jamshid's feelings, or even Muntadhir's feelings. _Right now, you could be anyone. Man or woman, beautiful or ugly. It wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference to him._

It made a difference to Jamshid, though. Oh, he knew how people talked about Muntadhir, unfavorably comparing him to his father and his younger brother. _My own father -_ but of course, Jamshid's father had a rather more personal reason for disliking Muntadhir.

"Come to bed with me, Jamshid."

_At least he remembers my name,_ Jamshid thought. _That's something._ He shook his head. Nothing good would come of giving in to Muntadhir when he got like this. Tomorrow morning, Muntadhir would wake up hung-over and cranky, which Jamshid might have been willing to deal with, but Muntadhir would also be embarrassed, and _that_ , Jamshid refused to deal with.

"You know, I could have your head for this blatant disobedience," Muntadhir said.

_You could have something a lot more valuable than my head,_ Jamshid thought. Out loud, he said, "Yes, my lord," hoping that Muntadhir would be content with that much.

Perhaps, once they got to Muntadhir's rooms, Muntadhir would remember this or that woman he had met somewhere, and sent for her. Then Jamshid would be free to go home, to lie in his cold and lonely bed and tell himself that he had done the right thing, that it was better to be virtuous and proud than to be sinful and meek. His father would no doubt be pleased to see him at breakfast.

"I'm not going to have you executed for refusing to sleep with me. Come on, Jamshid. It was just a joke. You know I didn't - that I would never - I love you."

_That's only the wine talking._ When in his cups, Muntadhir said a great many things he didn't mean, or want to hear repeated back to him once sober. Jamshid had learned that the hard way.

"You are very dear to me also, my lord," he said. It was nothing less than the truth. Any man might act the fool when drunk. Jamshid would not hold such a thing against Muntadhir.

"What a terrible thing to say to someone who has just declared his love to you. Who has bared to you his very soul, his very heart. At the least, at the very least, you could pretend. To please me."

_I have had my fill of pretending, Dhiru. I am not my father, any more than you are yours. Not all may consider that a good thing, but me, I had rather your honesty and generosity than all your father's cunning and calculation._

"Shall I show up underneath your window early tomorrow morning, to wake you with a love song?"

Muntadhir laughed. "It would serve me right if you did, I suppose. Very well, have it your way. What do I care? Plenty of people ready to jump at a chance to spend a night in my bed."

"I don't doubt it for a moment, my lord," Jamshid said.

"Not even a hint of jealousy? What sort of man are you?" Muntadhir shook his head.

_A realistic one, who understands his position, as well as yours._ Jamshid shrugged. He never knew in advance how much Mutandhir would remember of these conversations the next day. He didn't want to say anything that would hurt Muntadhir's feelings, but he had no intention of lying, either.

"Everyone else - they smile at me and they flatter me, but I know it's only because I'm the Emir. Because there are things they want that they hope I can give them." Muntadhir sighed. "You are the only exception, Jamshid. The only one who never asks for anything."

_I know that what I want, you cannot give me,_ Jamshid thought. _There's nothing particularly virtuous or praiseworthy about that, is there?_ "Come," he said. "You need to lie down. Sleep it off."

"I'll sleep better when you're with me," Muntadhir said.

"What happened to me hogging the blankets and snoring?"

Muntadhir looked confused. Clearly, he had already forgotten their argument on the morning after the last time Jamshid had allowed Muntadhir to talk him into spending the night.

"If you do, I'm willing to put up with it. That's how much I love you." Muntadhir's tone made it clear that he considered this a very generous concession on his part. Even so, there was a note of desperation in Muntadhir's voice as well, that was much harder to resist than his drunken declarations of love.

"Dhiru," Jamshid said gently. "You could have anyone. You said it yourself."

"I don't want anyone else. I want you."

_For how long? A few hours, perhaps? I know how this goes, my lord. I know that right now, you are drunk and sentimental and convinced that you love me, but in the light of dawn, you will look at things differently. You will remember who you are, and everything you have to lose._

Jamshid had hesitated too long, he realized: Muntadhir leaned over and kissed him, his mouth tasting of wine. "Come to bed with me," Muntadhir repeated, his eyes too bright. "Remind me what it feels like to be loved for who I am, rather than for my wealth or the power of my position."

It was a brilliant argument, and probably the dirtiest trick in Muntadhir's book of dirty tricks. Jamshid felt his determination waver. Because he _did_ love Muntadhir, and he knew quite well how this set him apart from all the others who shared Muntadhir's bed.

Jamshid just wasn't always sure whether or not Muntadhir loved him back. Most of the time, he thought so. He wanted to believe so. Yet so long as Muntadhir kept going back and forth between telling Jamshid he loved him in private and pretending they were nothing more than friends in public, Jamshid could never be certain.

"As you command, my lord," he said. _Maybe it will be different this time,_ he told himself.

"Well, finally," Muntadhir said. "I really was beginning to think I needed to have you arrested or something."

"And would you have then spent the night with me in the dungeons, my lord?"

"For you, I might have considered it," Muntadhir said.


End file.
